


Anything We Want

by heyfrenchfreudiana



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fix-It, Not Beta Read, Not Canon Compliant, Oh Hitachi!, Oral Sex, Sex Toys, Steve is a giver, Steve is pissed with the state of pornography, fix it of a porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-11
Updated: 2016-06-11
Packaged: 2018-07-14 09:51:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7166339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heyfrenchfreudiana/pseuds/heyfrenchfreudiana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Steve watches the Avengers porn parody at Tony's, he is appalled and indignant at the lack of consideration his porn counterpart has for Natasha's. He returns home to make it up to her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anything We Want

**Author's Note:**

> So I recently saw a porn parody of Captain America in which Romanogers is actually canon (yayyyy!!!) but of course, it was also very shitty porn. The kind of porn where the woman is clearly faking and gets nothing out of it and spends way too much time giving a guy who looks nothing like Steve a ridiculous blow job. Steve, it became clear, would be so pissed by this. And so I bring this fix-it. Apologies and thanks for reading this. 
> 
> Title from "Anything We Want" by Fiona Apple, which is a reallyy niice OTP song :)

She could tell by the way he slammed the door shut that was in a Mood. Not that it would be the first time he'd gone over to Tony's and come back pissed off, and she wondered if she was going to have to text Pepper.

"Hey," she waved from her spot at the kitchen sink where she'd been washing up but before she could say anything else, he was stomping toward her, eyebrows knitted and face dark. She was going to ask him what happened but he pressed his lips to hers and lifted her up so that her ass was on the counter, the "uf!" of surprise escaping her lips. Her wet hands clutched his shirt instinctively.

"Just a sec, Nat," he said, voice heavy and she thought he sounded a bit angry. Not at her, definitely not because he was almost certainly ripping her pants down and had his face between her thighs faster before she could even formulate a sentence to complain.

Not that she would, not when she was sure this was the absolute best way to end her day. At least, not when he was obviously not fucking around, spreading her wide open so that he could lick along the length of her slit and suck onto her clit like he was dying.

“Sure, go right ahead,” she gasped, putting her hands on his shoulders and leaning back so her head hit the cupboard, the temperature of her body rising and want unfurling in her body in a way she wouldn’t ten minutes earlier have anticipated . Normally, this might just count as foreplay. This might just get her hot enough that she was impatient to be filled, but when she tugged at his ear and bucked her hips up, he shook his head and held her down, his fingers stroking the inside of her thighs as he sucked.

“Steve, what…” she couldn’t finish her sentence, not when he’d started using fingers and, yes. Yes, this was just fine. This was good, this was…

She bucked her hips up again, release hitting her like a tidal wave, and her body on fire. Steve continued, kept licking and sucking, twisting his wrist so that he could press inside her against the spot that had her whimpering.  

“So good, Nat, so good,” he murmured against her and her whole body shook like she’d been hit with an electric shock, her thighs pressing against his ears and her toes pointed down. “That’s it, that’s good…”

“Motherfuck…” She couldn’t think, couldn’t remember the logic for why her entire focus and being was concentrated around the nerves and flesh currently being assaulted relentlessly by his mouth. It _was_ good. One of her favorite things, in fact, was that he was so good, that he enjoyed going down on her, that he didn't have hang ups about it, that he had always made a point to study what she liked and how she responded because he was her lover and felt like it was his _job_ to make her fall apart.  

And she was falling apart, the second orgasm on the heels of the first, clamping her legs down in such a way that she was pushing him away just so she could catch her breath.

He sat back on his heels, panting, eyes on the floor and Nat slid off so she could kiss him, kneel beside him to reach between his legs.

“More,” he growled, reaching with one hand to touch her still sensitive flesh and she moaned, needing a minute but her hips still moving to his fingers because she was nothing if not greedy. Still missing what he was looking for, she reached for his crotch again. This time, he grabbed her wrist, pulling her close, kissing her with something that wasn’t like most times.

Most times, even when they were fast and frantic, he deferred to her, letting her set pace. But this time, it was his tongue pushing through, telling her something even as it pushed her tongue back, his mouth wanting to say something but instead kissing along her throat instead.

“What happened?” she breathed, grabbing his shirt, feeling like he was going to _maul_ her, like she was going to be knocked onto the floor, until he lifted her up so that she was sitting on his lap, and she got the chance to look at him properly.

“Nothing happened,” he said but his eyes were dark and his fingers were still trying to tease her, still stroking her. She reached back to start working on his belt and he slapped her fingers, even as he crunched up to kiss the tops of her thighs.

“Sit on my face, Nat,” he said. He actually ordered her, his voice completely calm, and Natasha did a double take, wondering if he’d been hit with some sort of sex pollen because she didn’t even know he knew how to make that kind of command. She furrowed her brow at the idea that he might be high, that something might have happened, and reached up to put her palm to his forehead.

“Steve, what?” she asked. “Steve, did you take something at Tony’s?”

“Nat, fuck,” he cursed and she drew in a quick breath because that was new, the word hitting the air like lightning. “I need you to do this, okay?”

Natasha pushed him back so that she was sitting on his chest, so that she could get him to look her in the eye because the idea of him being drugged was definitely not sexy. “Just by eating me out, Steve? You have to give me some information here.”

He grabbed her hips, his eyes flashing that frustration she’d seen earlier. “It’s something I’ve gotta do, Nat. It’s something I’ve gotta do for you.”

“Steve, what the fuck,” she said, examining his eyes and then shutting her own when he’d moved two sneaky fingers back to her clit. She rocked just a bit before it was her turn to slap his hand away, her brain telling her something was going on. “Tell me.”

Steve let his head hit the floor and sighed. “Tony. He brought a skin flick to the party. Thought it would be funny or something, you know how he is…”

Natasha rolled her eyes. “So you saw porn at Tony’s and now you wanna fuck? You could have said that.”

“No, that’s not it,” he shook his head. “Honestly, I wasn’t even paying attention. In fact, I was getting ready to leave. But he thought it’d be a gas for us to see a parody of ourselves and…”

Natasha folded her arms across her chest. What was the protocol for this? Was she supposed to be mad because they were in a relationship? Was that what girlfriends did? Got angry when their boyfriends admitted watching dirty movies? She could bet a large sum of money it wasn’t sexy at all and double the amount that Steve really was about to leave when he saw whatever he’d seen that had pissed him off so much. Natasha could list ten other things she was more concerned with than whether or not he was watching porn. Whatever this was, it wasn’t about the porn, not exactly because he’d come home so angry, because normally sex was about give and take and he wouldn’t even let her touch him.

“And what? Did you see something you liked?” She meant it as a tease but he scowled, eyes meeting hers like she’d just suggested something horrendous.

“No, Natasha. I did not, no,” he said firmly, moving to sit up, her legs on either side of his body. Her breath hitched at the feel of his jeans against her still nude lower half and he raised an eyebrow as if to say, _see, you can still go for one more._

“I’m not until you tell me what the fuck is going on, Steve,” Natasha straightened her back and put on her most resolute and serious expression, even as she shifted, her sensitive cunt pressing against his growing erection.

“Yeah, very convincing,” he smirked, bucking his hips. Natasha closed her eyes for a second before narrowing them. He caved with a short howl when she reached under his shirt and pinched one of his nipples.

“It was all wrong, Nat,” he explained. “All wrong. Not just because the… actors were....I mean, the actress they chose. She was all wrong, her suit, her…” He looked flustered, reaching for one of her breasts, and she laughed, her heart tugging, an absurdity which only made her laugh more.

“Not a fan of plastic?” she grinned.

“It’s not just that,” Steve continued. “I mean, they didn’t even try. The guy playing me had black hair and I mean, I know you are supposed to suspend belief. Nat, they didn’t even try.”

Natasha gave a happy sigh and wrapped her arms around his neck, surprised by how suddenly romantic and sweet hearing her boyfriend talk about porn could even be. “So you’ve got the real thing right here.”

“Natasha, that girl did all the work. She didn’t come at all, it was embarrassing.”

He face darkened and she nodded because that was the issue wasn’t it? That was what pissed him off more than anything, _of course_. “Steve. That kind of porn is made for teenage boys, it’s not supposed to…”

“That makes it worse, don’t you think?” Steve cut her off. “That boys are learning that this is what women are supposed to do? She didn’t come, probably because the asshole playing me didn’t hardly try at all. Do girls watch these too? And think this is how they should be because Nat, that wasn’t right at all.”

Natasha bit her bottom lip and watched him talk out his frustration, watched him work out exactly the problem with mainstream pornography as someone who had been asleep for the sexual revolution and the evolution of the x-rated industry. “There are a lot of things wrong with it, that’s true.”

“Nat, even above all that. Even above all of that, the man playing me did not do anything to satisfy the woman playing you. He wasn’t even paying attention. She was mentally writing her grocery list while she did… her job. That’s not acceptable.”

Natasha tipped her head. It wasn’t like she’d never reviewed her list of things to do before a flight the next day or like she hadn’t mapped out what she was going to wear while pretending to enjoy sex with someone just so he would hurry up. Lying and dishonesty that she hadn't yet experienced with Steve, who was attentive and patient and attuned to her. Who she was quite frankly head over heels for enough that she didn't want to fake it, didn't want to pretend. “So is all of this about your ego?”

He looked down, grimacing, and she thought he sounded almost hurt. “Well, yeah, when Tony looks over and says that Black Widow sure is good at faking, yeah, that stings. I take care of you, right?”

Natasha pressed her lips to his, hoping that would be answer enough, as if he’d already forgotten the way she tasted with his face in between her thighs right there on the kitchen counter next to a sink full of cold, sudsy dishwater. “Yeah, you do, Steve.”

Steve nodded, his hands pressed flat into her back and his lips fitting against hers, and Natasha wiggled her hips again, eliciting a muffled groan.

“So how about we do some reenacting?”

“I refuse to treat you the way that woman was treated,” he said, in all seriousness. “This has to be about you. About your comfort and your pleasure.”

“Steve, it’s make believe…” Natasha smiled even though she knew he knew this, knew it was couldn’t really be the first time he’d ever seen porn or realized how unequal sex could be.

“Yes, but it's like I have to make it up to you.  I can’t explain it, I just have to…”

Natasha stood up and walked toward the bedroom, very aware that his eyes were on hers. “Steve, if I wasn’t satisfied, I’d tell you.”

She wasn’t five feet before he was right behind her, his body against hers as they walked toward their bed. “I know you would…”

“I would, Steve,” she asserted, lifting her t-shirt over her head, looking over her shoulder to kiss him softly, her body still humming from before. “I’ve lived through too many lifetimes of pretending to do anything different.”

“Nat,” he squinted, his mouth on words that he was clearly holding back on saying. That pride thing, she figured. That anyone would suggest that Captain America was a selfish lover, that Steve Rogers ignored the needs of his girlfriend.

“Steve, I want you,” she faced him, sliding her arms around his waist and up his back. “I’ve got no complaints.”

He nodded like he’d heard her and she moved again for the button to his pants. He gave a soft little whimper into her mouth and she shuddered, hoping he’d allow that she didn’t want to be considered selfish either.

“Wanna wreck you,” he murmured into her ear as she slid her hands into his jeans, to his ass.

“I hope so.” She stepped back, her calves hitting the mattress, and she hoped he heard the truth in her words. She loved his mouth, loved that he’d done it so eagerly, with her pleasure more important than his. But she also loved to feel him, to feel filled, to feel the moment when he first pushed inside her and the moment when she knew he was close or that delicious moment when he came, like a blissful chemical reaction.

She fell back onto the bed, spreading her legs and crooking her finger to send him this very message but he just stood there, eyes dark and panting but not moving. The look he had when he was considering the next tactical move. It was an unexpected anticipation and she rubbed her thighs together, clutching the comforter while she waited.

“Gonna take care of you,” he said finally, voice thick and betraying the Brooklyn that she so rarely heard. Natasha held her breath, her mind racing to imagine what that might even mean. He walked over to the nightstand and pulled out the vibrator she hadn’t used nearly as much anymore, not since they were dating and not when he was there. Natasha would have laughed, just at the thought of Steve Rogers holding her beloved Hitachi, if she wasn’t already wet and aching, her heart racing that he was thinking about it.

“Remind me to send flowers to Tony,” she said, eyes sharp on his movements, the way he looked from her to the wand, when he plugged it in, when he flipped the switch on. She jumped at the familiar purr of the motor, not missing the flush of his cheeks or the smirk that played on his lips. If Tony’s shitty porn had been embarrassing and touched a nerve, the antithesis, it seemed was whatever scenes were playing in his mind as he examined the toy and she squirmed on the bed.  

“Do you want…” he moved like he was going to hand it to her and she shook her head.

“You said you want to take care of me? You’re driving.”

Steve flipped the off switch and tossed the vibrator on the bed before crawling between her knees to kiss her. Natasha lifted her legs up to wrap them around his waist, pulling him down so that she could get the friction of his jeans against her cunt, and he bucked into her. Only able to hold out for so long, she teased him and he grabbed the wand, pressing it between them against her and flipping the switch…

“Too much,” she yelped, her body shaking against the unexpected vibrations and he snapped the toy back, looking up to her for advice on the next move. It had been long enough that she’d misjudged how powerful the vibrator could be and the need to work up to direct contact. She reached for his wrist and guided the wand back up, turning it on and guiding him on a slow tease and build-up. Natasha shook just feeling the silicone on her thighs, her belly, her pubic bone, anticipation running up and down her spine at the memory of how intense her Hitachi was just on the lowest level. This coupled with his cock pressing against her and his breath, heavy. It was clear he was curious too. It was clear they should have done this long ago.

“Okay,” she said under her breath, her pulse speeding and her skin hot, as she gripped his arms, as he pressed the round head against her clit and

It was amazing.  Fucking amazing, because he had it firmly pressed against her, because even with her eyes closed she could feel his gaze burning into her skin. She was gone, to far gone, and he cursed, almost begging. It was as if he was right there with her and aching to feel her or feel something. Something in the back of her mind reminded her that he’d held back through one and two of her orgasms in the kitchen, through teasing and talk and that he must be close, must be hard enough that it wouldn’t take much at all...

It didn’t take long, she’d forgotten how good, how effective the toy was at bringing her to climax, her hips lifting so she could gain more, greedy for more even as her eyes scrunched shut and she whimpered, her moans the only thing louder than the damned motor. She could feel him, hot breath and eyes not missing a single thing about how an appliance could make her come in seconds.

She pushed the head away, body shaking as she rested her forehead on his shoulder, and he kissed her hair.

“Holy Christ,” he whispered. “And you do that without me? You’re beautiful.”

She reached between them again, this time to palm his neglected erection. “That vibrator and I have fond, fond memories together.”

“I really don't mind this visual at all,” he confessed and she rolled her eyes playfully, tugging on his shirt.

“I've been trying since you got home to get you naked, Steve.”

He lifted his shirt over his head, giving her access to a view she never got tired of seeing, and she gave a contented sigh before pressing her lips to his chest, just about where she imagined his heart to be.

“Your turn,” she announced and he grimaced. It made Natasha laugh but also love him more. It was suddenly important to tell him, to make him understand that he was the only one upset about the porn, that he was the only one making comparisons. “Steve, I like making love to you. I like touching you.”

He nodded and she kept going, kept telling him even when he was naked on the bed and she was lowering herself onto him, so hard inside her. He wouldn't last long, not after giving so much to her, and he groaned almost in relief when she started rocking back and forth, digging his fingers into her hips.

“Love you,” she purred, watching him watch her with hazy eyes. “Love to feel you inside me. Love how good you make me feel.”

“Nat,” he said her name desperately as he snapped his hips up. She reached for the Hitachi and brought it to life, pressing it again to her clit and a shudder rolling through her body almost instantly. In consequence, she almost missed the way his brows knit together or the way his lips parted like he was trying to remember how to breathe.

Almost.

“Fuck,” she cried, her skin burning and the pulsing relentless. God bless him for not losing pace, for only faltering a second even though she knew it was hard, even though she could she that he could feel the vibrations. “Fucking...perfect.”

“Nat,” he grunted. “Nat, I’m losing it…”

“ _Da_ ,” she shut her eyes tight, so full, so good. And then she was actually giggling. Actually giggling as she came, her body sensitive and overstimulated and properly fucked. It almost hurt but it was so _good._  She wanted to curl around it, to curl around him, her ears picking up only the sounds of her own breath and the blood rushing in her ears.

She was still shaking when she tossed the Hitachi across the room, it’s hum rattling against the floor as if it was angry for being discarded violently. Not that Natasha even remotely cared, her body falling over Steve’s in exhaustion, her forehead pressed to the damp skin of his sternum as she reconnected her thoughts. Things were messy, fluid leaking between her legs and onto him as they separated and that made her laugh again, pressing tired lips to his breast.

She hadn’t even registered that he’d come at all, wouldn’t have known if not for the slick and sticky feeling of it.

“ _Are you convinced? That I love you and that you don’t have anything to prove_?” Her voice was tired and she knew she needed to drink something, to rest, to shower. She thought she probably sounded drunk.

He chuckled, fingers gently stroking her lower back. “You’re gonna hafta tell me in English, Nat.”

Natasha smile-frowned, catching that she was speaking in _Russian_ , that she was so spent, she’d all but forgotten English. Her mind cleared enough that she repeated the words, this time making eye contact so as to be sure he really heard her.

"Yeah, I’m convinced,” Steve promised, eyes hooded. “I still wanna write a letter to the filmmakers about at least doing a little historical research but I’m convinced.”

“Your old man is showing,” she said sleepily, readjusting so that she fit into his side like a puzzle piece. Her puzzle piece, she thought with a sigh, and he grunted.

“Yeah well, if that’s how men expect things these days... back in my day…”

“Did you really just say ‘back in my day’?” she asked, reaching up to put a finger against his lips in effort to prevent him from thinking about it further. He kissed the finger and she felt him relax again.

“Some things are better though,” he said. “That thing over there…”

Natasha looked over at the vibrator, still humming angrily on the floor. “I’m supposed to turn it off so it doesn’t burn out.”

“I can’t believe it’s not illegal,” he mused, reaching to yank the cord out of the socket. “Watching you come on that thing. That’s what I want to see, Nat. I don’t wanna see some girl who doesn’t even look like she could be your sister pretend to be you while she’s… you’re what I want to see, you’re so fucking beautiful.”

Natasha closed her eyes against him feeling loved, feeling satiated, feeling incredulous at all the possibilities, the ways he made her feel. She felt _treasured_ , hoped she would be able to make him feel the same way. And she felt grateful. She’d been that woman before, the one who put on a show and pretended. She’d been the object. It was sacred almost, realizing what she had in Steve and again how he was different, _better_. The anomaly to even schemas and beliefs she herself held about sex and relationships and she didn’t want to ever let that go.

“I love you, Steve Rogers,” she whispered, loud enough that he could hear it but not so loud that her voice wouldn’t crack. It wasn’t the first time she’d made the confession but it was just as true as the first time she’d said it. He said it back, without hesitation, and she fell asleep with his heartbeat and breathing a soundtrack written on her soul.

 

**Author's Note:**

> [The Hitachi](https://www.amazon.com/Magic-Wand-Premium-Essentials-Controller/dp/B0089175GE/ref=sr_1_1_a_it?ie=UTF8&qid=1465635907&sr=8-1&keywords=magic+wand) for anyone who is interested (eyyy you can get it on amazon prime!)


End file.
